DAY TWO
When Bella managed to drag herself out of bed in the morning, the two SHIELD guards had been swapped out with their replacements and were in their positions, listening to a baseball game on the radio.
"Movement?" she asked the one stationed at the front door, Lorne.
"Nah," he replied, "your new housemate woke up at around five thirty and asked for breakfast though," there was a half-smile on his face.
"Really?" she rubbed her eyes.
"More of demanded on pain of death," Lorne shrugged, "I'm surprised you weren't woken up," he grinned at her, "he wasn't very polite. In the end I came in and got him a bowl of Cornflakes. Other than that, situation normal."
She frowned, "good work, Lorne."
She trudged into the lounge. She had a spare room, a third bedroom apart from hers and her daughter's rooms; she had parked Loki in there, and gave him some of her more neutral clothes to wear.
She had torched the shit that her husband had left there when they divorced. It was a rough divorce; hence the bonfire, and she and Coulson had toasted marshmallows and drank beer in her backyard the day the paperwork went through.
She was still tired, and annoyed, and so a good dose of morning broadcast television would cheer her right the fuck up.
"Good morning," came the chipper greeting, Loki was in her family den. He was sitting on the floor, books spread out around him, twenty or more, some fiction, some non-fiction and some were biographies.
"There are birds singing, fuckers on the street honking their horns, and a giant bright ball of bright shit in the sky, and they're all saying 'welcome to another miserable day, fuck you'," she yawned and threw herself down on the lounge, "what's good about it?"
He looked up at her innocently, like a little kid, and for a second, he was so adorable and she just wanted to hug him. She wanted to carry him around in her pocket and feed him nachos.
"You're not a morning person, are you?"
"No, I'm not," Bella snapped, "Especially not when some alien is tearing apart my house and I feel like a leper's ass smells," she turned on the TV again. Good Morning America was on. With any luck, she could fall back to sleep. "What are you doing anyway?"
"Reading," he replied simply.
"Why can't you read one book at a time like normal people?"
"I get bored easily."
She glanced at one of the books on the coffee table, "Shakespeare, no wonder."
He smiled wryly, glancing at the screen, "you watch that?"
"Even if my eyes weren't too blurry to read at this hour, all my books are already taken."
"It's ten thirty."
She yawned, "I haven't slept for days," she told him honestly, "I run on caffeine. My fuel reserves are a little low." She watched the screen for a few more moments. The head of the FBI announcing that the footage of the so-called Destroyer was basically an unmitigated fabrication, but by now it was all over the news and people were already creating conspiracy theories. Hardly anyone believed in the FBI cover story of an old Soviet footage, because a mechanic identified the make and models of the SUV's. Whitewashing the media seemed to be a waste of time.
Loki scoffed at her and looked back down at the book, "damn mortals."
"You think you're better that me," Bella faced him, her gaze cut into him like a knife.
"Correction," Loki held up a hand, "I know I'm better than you."
"Frosty the Snow Giant," she laughed, "I wonder if you'll still think that way when I'm feeding you your teeth."